


Turning Point

by odd_stick (KrakenAntlers)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Drabble, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrakenAntlers/pseuds/odd_stick
Summary: Unintended meeting.





	Turning Point

**Author's Note:**

> **ORIGINALLY WRITTEN IN 2010 and posted on both ff.net and LJ**  
> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Hasbro.  
> Pairing: Deadlock/Drift x Perceptor (IDW) – Could be viewed as Gen or pre-slash  
> Summary: Request fic for LJ@dreamerchaos ; prompt was “Deadlock/Perceptor; unintended meeting”. Takes place before Deadlock leaves the Decepticons and becomes Drift.  
> A/N: All I know about Deadlock is what I found on tfwiki.net and Wikipedia….which is to say, not a whole lot. Not much of Drift’s past persona has been revealed at this point, so please forgive the obvious literary licenses taken here.

The dust was hanging thick in the air like fog as Perceptor scrambled through the rubble. Shots fired from both sides of the conflict sent flashes of light refracting through the haze and the sounds of yelling, screaming, and explosions echoed strangely. The scientist was completely lost. He couldn’t tell which direction his comrades had run to in their haste to escape the ambush.

The red and teal mech had been caught on the edge of a blast radius, nearly blinding him as his audials whined. The static disrupting his vision and the thick veil of dust hampered his progress as he tried to traverse the apocalyptic scene around him. He may very well have not noticed the fallen mech had he not tripped over him.

Perceptor yelped as he fell, barely catching himself in time to save his face from being slammed into the dirt. Groaning as he pushed himself up to his knees, the microscope turned to look at what had tripped him. The mech was in stasis, the damage to his chassis and left arm and the resulting energon loss the most probable cause.

The Autobot scientist crawled towards the mech’s helm on his injured side to better inspect the damage. He felt his spark sink as he noticed the Decepticon emblem proudly displayed on the soldier’s armor. Perceptor was about to struggle to his pedes when he noticed the barely lit optics watching him.

Sighing to himself – why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone! – Perceptor scooted closer to the mech’s helm. “How badly are you damaged?”

If he was surprised, the Decepticon did not show it. After a long moment and a badly concealed scan of the Autobot and the surrounding area, he responded, “Trying to figure out if you can take me all by yourself?”

“Not particularly. I am trying to figure out if you will survive if I leave you here like this.”

Anger bloomed in the red optics. “I don’t need help from a weak Autobot!” The injured mech roared as he reared up and reached for Perceptor. The scientist fell back, raising an arm and his scope defensively, but the action was unnecessary as the larger mech grunted painfully and fell back. The Decepticon held his good hand to his chassis, attempting to stave the renewed flow of energon from the ragged wounds.

Perceptor crept closer and inspected the damage. “I may not be as physically strong as you, but at least I am not irrational enough to needlessly aggravate such wounds.” The scientist pulled a small, portable welding torch and several cable clamps from his subspace pocket. “Try not to move. I need to patch some of this up before you bleed out.”

The larger mech shied back from the reaching hands. “Don’t touch me,” he growled.

Knowing that the Decepticon wouldn’t believe any reassurances he would offer, Perceptor just reached again and began making the field repairs that he could. The injured mech growled and grumbled just loud enough to be heard by the scientist, but held still.

When the bleeding had been staunched and the few repairs he was capable of had been made, Perceptor stepped back from the other mech. “I have done all I can for now.”

The fallen mech’s internal systems told him that he was no longer in danger of immediate deactivation or stasis lock. “Why?”

Perceptor returned his tools to their place and stood, patting the dust from his knees. “Because I am a ‘weak Autobot’. I…I couldn’t just leave you there to die a slow, agonizing death.”

“You could have offlined me. Made it quick.”

“I like to avoid that when I can. Killing during a battle is not the same as murder…it has to be.” Perceptor’s gaze shifted to the side, the dust was finally starting to clear and the noises of fighting had long since faded into the distance. “I hope we never meet again Decepticon.”

The Autobot met his gaze one last time before turning and walking away, disappearing into the rubble and dust. Deadlock had never known mercy, either towards or from him, but he could recognize it. He usually viewed it as a weak sentiment that had no place in a war, but he was oddly…grateful for the assistance the Autobot had freely given.

Once he deemed that the mech had gained enough distance, he struggled to his feet and sent out a message to his team stating that he was still functional, but injured and heading towards their temporary base of operations. His only reply was an affirmative and a ‘hurry the frag up’. Holding a hand to his still aching chassis, Deadlock limped back to his faction, but his thoughts were focused on the small red and teal Autobot.


End file.
